He fancied that the whole fabric of the bridge was cracking over head,—that the arch was tumbling upon him,—that the torrent was swelling around him, whirling him off, and about to bury him in the deafening abyss. ‘I do not wish to be like him, but it is entirely reasonable that it should be so. Care for a hundred up?” Ennison shook his head. But—he was cleverer than any of you. I came to the Beck’s house. F. The hurricane had now reached its climax. There was no one at home, and I was coming away when I saw that the door was open. " "You hear that," whispered Jack. I care not. .
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